


Walking in the Wind

by homesoutofhuman



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Puerto Rico, Romance, depressed reader, non-specific gender of reader, replicas movie, zen keanu trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 13:25:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17387198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homesoutofhuman/pseuds/homesoutofhuman
Summary: Reader is having a hard time in life and meets Keanu on the set of 'Replicas' in Puerto Rico. As we all know the man is intelligent and amazing and he becomes their shoulder to cry on.





	Walking in the Wind

I know I’ll be your anchor  
Just close your eyes and see  
I’ll be by your side  
Any time you’re needing me

\- Walking in the Wind, One Direction

———

When you took your job as a runner you were excited to be on a film set and to travel, but the reality is you’re far from home, surrounded by strangers and your role seems to be that of the dogsbody, given all the jobs that no one else wants to do. After a couple of weeks on set you’re exhausted by all the various demands of both the actors and crew. This morning it is Tom, a Brit with very particular tastes who has asked you to remake his tea twice already, the first because it was too weak, the second because it didn’t have enough milk. You’re crossing the lot with the third, hopefully just right cup, rushing so much you crash straight into a tall, dark haired solid hunk of a man, who to your dismay, turns out to be the lead actor Keanu Reeves. The tea splashes over your hand and you cannot help give out a yelp. Keanu’s brown eyes take in your panicked state.

“That looks like it hurt.”

“No.” you lie, clenching your teeth, not wanting to bother him with your pain. “I’m fine.”

Keanu sighs and jerks his head back in the direction he came. “My trailer is just there, let’s run it under cold water.”

Something about his tone makes it hard to argue and before you know what is happening you’re following him. Keanu pushes open the door to his trailer, the largest on the lot and runs the kitchen tap. You thrust your hand under it and try not to think about the fact there is a very famous and handsome man close to you.

“I need to get Tom his tea or he’ll be upset…” you babble.

“Don’t you worry about him. I’ll speak to him.” Keanu reassures you, and, seeing you’re attempting to move your hand away he gently holds your wrist so the freezing water runs directly onto your scalded skin. You gasp a bit, both at his action and the shock of the temperature which is almost painful.

“Hold it.” he says, his voice a low somewhat amused rumble. You nod and concentrate on trying to breathe. When your hand is numb Keanu seems satisfied and hands you a towel to dry off.

“Thank you.” you say, honestly grateful and touched by his attention. “I should go.”

“I’m due in hair and make up myself. I’ll walk with you.”

Keanu walks beside you, unassuming, almost as if he wasn’t the star the whole production was orienting around. You feel the stares when you appear with him, and even Tom hesitates to demand his tea from you. Before he leaves you Keanu takes your hand in his and inspects it, turning it over to see the slightly reddened burn.

“If it’s still like that later go see the medic okay?”

Speechless, you nod, watching him walk with rounded shoulders to take his place in the makeup chair. Hearing someone yell your name you go back to the reality of the daily grind, but you feel his touch like a ghost on your skin for the rest of the day.

————–

A few days later you see Keanu leaning against his trailer and smoking. He waves you over and transfers his cigarette to the other hand so you won’t have to breathe in the smoke.

“How are you today?” he asks, so simply and genuinely you feel yourself opening up.

“Can I be honest? A little down.”

A small frown appears between Keanu’s dark eyebrows but he says nothing so you continue. “Do you get homesick?”

Keanu chuckles then, a little sadly you think and shakes his head. “My house in LA is just an empty building. I miss my family, but to be honest i feel more at home on a film set than in my actual house.”

“Oh. Well, it’s all very strange for me. Maybe I’m missing something that never existed anyway…” you muse, trying to put your strange sadness into words.

“That’s called nostalgia.” answers Keanu gently. “The wistful or sentimental yearning to return to some past period or irrecoverable condition.” He quotes the definition to you and you are startled until you remember he’s an actor and used to memorising things. “Sad really, because irrecoverable means it’s gone forever.”

You feel yourself leaning in to hear more of his soft voice, he just so present, not judging you, just listening and it makes you talk more than you probably should.

“I just feel so alone some days, so insignificant, like if I disappeared off the earth it would make very little difference. I worry I’m wasting my life.” you hear yourself straying into dark territory and attempt to lighten the mood. “It’s different for you, Mister Moviestar.”

Keanu is watching you with a deep expression in his beautiful eyes. “we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” He quotes and you smile with recognition - “Oscar Wilde.”

“Can I make a suggestion?” He asks so gently you cannot refuse. “Of course.”

“You need to stop focusing just on what is coming to you. Try helping other people, nothing major, just small acts of kindness you think might brighten people’s day. It honestly helps get you out of this depressed headspace and I’m speaking from experience.” He speaks quickly, earnestly, his cheeks flushing as if he is embarrassed and not wanting to seem like he’s lecturing you. He waves his cigarette in the air “but don’t feel you have to take my advice.”

Sceptical, you go back to work, Keanu’s words brewing in the back of your head. You ignore them at first, thinking you have enough on your plate without doing more for others, but as the days go on you find yourself almost unintentionally following his advice. You help another runner set up a tent to keep the camera crew out of the wind, and they’re so grateful they buy you morning coffee. On impulse you buy Tom a pack of digestive biscuits from a shop you found selling international food and his eyes light up, you realise you’re not the only one who is homesick. The set begins to feel more familiar, more friendly, and you can’t walk through it without someone stopping to talk to you. You’re so popular in fact that it’s a few days before you stop by Keanu’s trailer again. You’ve bought him a bottle of red wine and you want to give it to him as a thank you for letting you vent, for being your therapist of sorts.

Knocking on his trailer you hear music playing inside, thinking he might not hear you over the noise you gently push the door open, calling his name. He answers “Come in” but doesn’t come to greet you and you find him on his bed, propped up on pillows. He looks utterly exhausted and you think of all the early call times and late night shoots you’ve seen him at. He works without complaining, without stopping, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him show any human sign of weakness. He gives you a weary smile.

“How are you?”

You shrug and smile, determined for once this won’t be about you. You show him the wine and his face breaks into a wider, genuine look of delight as he starts to tell you in a low rumbling voice about the grapes used in the bottle. You sit on the edge of the bed and listen vaguely, but your eyes run over his face with concern, taking in the lines around his eyes and mouth, the slump of his broad shoulders. He notices your gaze and blinks a few times.

“I had a rough scene in the rainforest - mud, ten feet of water, soaking, over and over again. I know I look like shit.” He rubs a hand over his face and your heart aches with sympathy.

“Can I do anything?”

He nods towards the wine. “Have a glass with me?”

“Sure.” You move to pour two glasses and Keanu shifts himself along the bed, meaning if you don’t sit next to him you appear rude, so you do, feeling your cheeks heating at the proximity. You clink for cheers, “¡Salud!” and sip slowly. You hear Keanu let out a deep sigh, and he turns towards you.

“It’s good, thank you.”

“I just wanted to…I mean…words cannot say how much I…”

“Shush..” he puts a finger to your lips and you look at him wide eyed. “You don’t need to say anything. It was my privilege to listen to you. Now though I gotta say I’m barely keeping my eyes open, could I ask you to do something for me?”

“Anything…” you breathe in a rush, then flush when you see Keanu’s eyes go stormy for a moment before settling back into coffee warm neutrality you’re used to.

“Would you just, stay, while I sleep?”

Your mouth falls open at his request, but he looks so vulnerable, so needy, you cannot think of a reason to deny it. “Sure…if you want me to.” you answer softly and hear him breathe a sigh of relief, turning to drop back down onto the mattress, he smiles at you shyly.

“Lay down with me?”

Taking you move so your back is towards his chest, not touching. You can feel Keanu’s breath on the nape of your neck and hear the change in his breathing when he falls asleep. You turn over to watch him, his dark eyelashes fanning against his cheeks, his face relaxed in repose, huffing light snores coming from his nose. You bite your own lip to resist wanting to touch him, to kiss him and turn resolutely back onto your side.

You must have fallen asleep too as when you next gain consciousness you’ve either shifted back or Keanu has moved forward, so he’s now spooning you, his long fingers splayed on your hip. You know precise moment he wakes up as he tenses behind you. You go to sit up but he tightens his grip on your waist.

“Wait, just a few more minutes?”

You let out a breath of relief, the last thing you wanted to do was leave his warm embrace, so you settle back into him. Keanu moves his arm around your stomach and pulls you tighter. You stay like that. Eventually though reality seeps in and the beeping of his watch reminds you that you’re late for several tasks. He lets you go with some reluctance and you feel the same, your steps heavy as you linger at his trailer door. You know it is futile to wish things were different, life has taught you that over and over, that way lies only pain and disappointment, but this man is making you want to forget all your hard won wisdom and indulge in sweet hopefulness.

———————–

Your days are lighter, but there are still lurking doubts in the back of your mind. You should be doing something meaningful. You see Puerto Rico around you, the resilient life of the place despite the devastation the hurricane caused, and feel like you should be helping more. Restlessness creeps in and you sign up to volunteer at one of the supply centres, but you still feel the strange weight of a darkness pressing on you despite the brightness of the beautiful blue sky.

Keanu beckons you over. He’s sitting in the sun on his ‘porch’, if AstroTurf and two lawn chairs can be called a porch. You attempt to explain your feelings to him and he hums thoughtfully. He’s in a playful mood today, not unlike a puppy, and he plays the role of ‘Dr Reeves’, checking your pulse and pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. You scoff and move away, but secretly you enjoy his attention.

“I prescribe liquor. Strong. Probably tequila for you. And dancing.”

You’re surprised at his suggestion, thinking he’d lend you one of his many philosophical texts instead and you say so, but Keanu shakes his head. “You’re spending too much time alone thinking, besides, we are all due a good night out.” 

He rallies the crew easily of course, drawing people to him like moths to an irresistible flame. In a fit of self-improving minimalism you got rid of a lot of your clothes and realise you’ve not much to wear so you settle on light blue jeans that flatter your figure and a white t-shirt that is simple but sexy. You arrive at the San Juan bar which is already buzzing. Keanu is wearing a grey t-shirt that shows off his arms, muscles the size of your head, which should make him look intimidating but just make him more mouthwatering gorgeous than usual.

And boy Keanu can drink. You see him at the bar ordering whisky before you’ve even started, then he’s walking back with a tray of shots for everyone, generous as ever. You slide into the booth beside him. Keanu sprinkles salt on his wrist and offers it to you, his dark eyebrow quirked. He looks younger, roguish, dangerous. You lick his skin, tasting salt before gulping down your shot. Keanu brings the slice of lime to your lips and you suck at it eagerly.

Salsa music starts up and some of the crew rise to dance. Keanu chuckles beside you, his shoulder pressed against yours, warm and solid as you watch the bar pulsing with energy, full of people moving their hips and singing along to the music, letting loud cries loose into the air. You don’t glance to Keanu, but you can feel his eyes on you, concerned, as if checking you’re really enjoying yourself and not just pretending. Frustrated, you pull him aside.

“You gotta stop worrying about me.”

Keanu opens his mouth to respond but before he can Tom grabs your hand to dance, doing his Patrick Swayze impression and it’s terrible, his hips hit yours too hard and you wince. When you look up Keanu is watching you again but this time his eyes are dark and brooding. If you didn’t know better you’d say he looked jealous.

“I knew Patrick and he was much smoother than you.” he fires at Tom in a jokey but intense tone that makes the other man do a double take. Keanu grabs your wrist and pulls you back into the group. You feel to shy to dance with him, so you hide amongst the girls, catching Keanu’s eye and shaking your hips making him laugh with genuine enjoyment. You tip your head back and let the music set you free.

Later, filing out of the bar the crowd has thinned off to various late night locations and suddenly it’s just you and Keanu again.

“Man I wish I had my bike here, I’ve got so much energy I don’t know how to burn it off!” He lifts his arms to the sky, raising his shirt and exposing a line of dark hair and his infamous stomach scar to your gaze.

You only realise you’re staring when he curls a finger under your chin and lifts it. “My eyes are up here (Y/N)”

Stammering an apology he starts to laugh “I’m not offended, flattered if anything.”

“Keanu.” you say, deadpan. “You must be used to everyone looking that way at you…”

“Actually it happens less and less. My personal life is boring.”

“Yeah, yeah.” you scoff “I’m not the press here stop lying. I bet you have a harem…”

He bursts out into giggles, covering his mouth and your heart aches with fondness. “I really don’t. I actually…I like being alone but I do…miss some things…” His eyes drift to your mouth then back to your eyes. You feel like everything is moving in slow motion

“If you want sex just say it.” you fire at him, your defences coming up quickly when faced with something you want so much it could destroy you.

He frowns “You think I would be like that? I thought you knew me…”

Feeling agitated without knowing why you groan out a sigh, guilt flooding you. He’s been so lovely to you and you’re acting like a brat. “I’m sorry.”

Keanu moves a hand to squeeze your shoulder and you sigh, letting your whole body relax you turn towards him, falling into his arms. He hugs you on the sidewalk, in the middle of the bustling city, as if he wasn’t so famous that around every corner lurked paparazzi waiting to spoil his privacy. It’s easy to forget. Out here you do feel like you have your own little world with him, like you’re just two people and it doesn’t matter what you do in public.

The two of walk back to the lot together, his arm around your shoulders keeping you close. When the film wraps soon you know the day will come when you will have to say goodbye, then you will never see him again. Keanu takes you to the door of the crew apartments and cups your cheek with his hand.

“You’re going to do so much in life to make yourself happy, you’ll see. I’m not worried about you.”

You nod, feeling your heart ripping apart, a whole imaginary future with him speeding in front of your eyes before almost simultaneously fading like a dream. 

“Goodnight Keanu” you say, feeling tears prickling at your eyes and not wanting him to see you cry. 

He holds your face for a few more moments, eyes looking deep into yours. You can feel his calm, his wisdom, flowing from him into you, and you are suddenly filled with the most delicious peace. That risky hopefulness is back again, and this time, you decide to let it stay. 

———————

If you enjoyed reading this fic please consider donating to UNIDOS whose goal is to help the families and communities of Puerto Rico rebuild after Hurricane Maria. Thank you so much my dears and all my love x


End file.
